Free And Don't Bring Jeremy by Marilyn Levinson Page B

proud or embarrassed, just matter-of-fact.
    “What happened?” I asked. “Mark said he called you a name.”
    “Yeah, and I just about had enough of him so I let him have it.”
    “Is Eddie okay?”
    “Yeah!” Jeremy was suddenly angry. “What do you care so much about him for? I’m your brother. Don’t you care that he insults me all the time?”
    “Sure I do,” I answered, feeling guilty. I’d never told Eddie to stop insulting Jeremy, since I knew it wouldn’t make any difference, except to get him mad at me. But I couldn’t help it. I liked Eddie, in spite of his faults.
    “He’s a jerk,” Jeremy said sullenly. “It’s about time somebody put him in his place. I don’t know why someone didn’t do it sooner.”
    “Yeah, well,” I began, “but to hit him like that.”
    “He’s no good,” Jeremy went on. “I know he put that shaving cream all over Laura Lee’s locker and I told him so again. He did it because he doesn’t like her, and to get Mark in trouble.”
    “What does he have against Mark?”
    “I heard some kids say that he tried to be good friends with Mark—taking him to ball games and stuff like that. Until Mark got sick and tired of his turning nasty for no reason at all and told him to get lost. So Eddie got even by making it look like Mark sprayed Laura Lee’s locker.”
    “I can’t believe that,” I said.
    Jeremy looked me straight in the eye. “You know, in some ways you’re a lot dumber than me.”
    “Thanks,” I said angrily.
    “If you’re so smart,” he said, “you’d never have gotten mixed up with Eddie Gordon.”
    “That’s how much you know,” I said loudly, to make my point. “Maybe there’s a side of Eddie that you don’t know about. For example, how he was the only kid around here to become my friend. I didn’t notice anyone else taking the trouble to include me until he did.”
    “Did you ever stop to think, Mr. Smarty Pants, that maybe Eddie got friendly with you because he has no friends? He sits alone in the cafeteria and on the school bus.” And with that, he stomped out of the kitchen and up to his room. He slammed the door so hard I was sure it would come off its hinges.
    Mom came home soon after that and went upstairs to talk to Jeremy. Dad had a talk with him, too, after supper. Finally, around nine o’clock, Jeremy came down to watch TV in the den with the rest of us. As far as I could see, he didn’t seem at all upset.
    “Did they ground you again?” I asked when Mom and Dad went into the kitchen for a second cup of coffee.
    “Nope,” he said, grinning. “They don’t care what Mr. Helmsley says; they don’t blame me one bit for what I did.”
    I couldn’t help grinning. “I must admit you probably gave Eddie the shock of his life when you smacked him one.”
    “Right on the kisser,” Jeremy said, swinging his fist. “Right on the kisser.”
    I watched some TV, then took a shower and got ready for bed. Mom called up around a quarter after ten for me to put the light out, that I had school the next day, like she always did. I lay there in the dark, not at all tired. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fight between Jeremy and Eddie. Somehow, even though I hadn’t been thinking about it much all evening, I knew it was of special significance to me. It had a greater effect on me than even the time that Eddie had claimed I’d thrown him a wild ball and punched me.
    Maybe up until now I’d refused to look at the rotten things Eddie had been doing all along because I was flattered that he wanted me as his friend. I felt a twinge of shame. All along Eddie had been insulting Jeremy—calling him names and provoking him—and I hardly ever even tried to stop him.
    But Eddie was especially nice to me, I reminded myself. He worked with me on my pitching and gave me baseball cards.
    I glanced at my clock. It was a few minutes past eleven. Suddenly I wanted a glass of milk. I got out of bed and walked past my parents’ room. The